song of the open road

by jack dale coody

illustrated by rhoda penmarq

i am a son of the open road a wanderer bold and free i shoulder no boss's heavy load i sip no sunday tea i've picked up butts in fifty states been in jail in thirty-two i've sung with the wind, and laughed with the fates and to my own self i'm true if your aunt muriel comes to town don't ask me to play croquet i'll spill champagne on her nice pink dress i'll make the vicar faint away confucius, now, he'd be my pal michelangelo, he'd pat me on the back and i've still got an eye for a pretty gal as i whistle down life's track i am a son of the open road a wanderer bold and free i shoulder no boss's heavy load i sip no sunday tea